My past seems to be coming back to haunt me the past couple of years.

Those of you who read this column regularly may have noticed that. If you haven’t, you could review the last 40 or so, since I’m sure you clipped them all and hung them on your refrigerator with a magnet.

Actually, “haunt” doesn’t exactly describe what my past is doing to me. Most of my memories aren’t that bad. My life hasn’t always been a bed of petunias which I prefer to the proverbial bed of roses, because they come with thorns. There have been times, though when even with petunias, thorns were definitely a factor, and occasionally I’ve had to bed down on prickly pear cactus. Still, most of the past episodes in my life come back with some degree of rosiness.

Recently, I’ve encountered a memory about which I have decidedly mixed feelings. It began when an envelope from the Wyoming Education Association appeared in my mailbox.

I was puzzled by this letter from WEA, because, although I was active in the organization for nearly 50 years, including a couple of terms on the board of directors, I have not been active since I retired from teaching a decade and a half ago. So it was mostly with curiosity that I opened the envelope.

What I found was a handful of pictures that featured me, either alone or in a group. The staff in Cheyenne had found a box of such photos while house cleaning, and thought it would be nice to send them to people they recognized in them.

Among those I received was a shot of me standing on some sort of elevated spot behind a lectern, apparently delivering a speech. I had no idea where it was taken or what I was speaking about. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine myself being in that position.

But there was something vaguely familiar about a railing in the photo, and as I studied the photo, it occurred to me that it looked a little like the railings on the stairs down into the lunchroom in the now-demolished Powell High School building.

That didn’t make any sense, and neither did the edge of a dark brown door in the background behind me.

Then it dawned on me that beyond that door was the lobby of the state Capitol, and the railing was at the center of the stairs leading into the Capitol. Now I knew the story of that picture.

In 1999, Wyoming Supreme Court decisions required the development of a new school-funding model for the state’s school districts. The Legislature had convened a special session in June to deal with the issue.

I was still a WEA board member, and I decided to go to Cheyenne to help out with our lobbying effort during the session.

As it happened, the AFL/CIO decided to stage a rally in support of proposals being debated. I’m not a fan of such rallies. To me, they consist of a lot of noise without much substance, but I decided to hang around anyway and see what was happening.

That was a mistake. As I was standing around watching, the WEA president came to me and requested that I speak for the association when our turn came.

Now, I am rarely at a loss for words, but in this case, my voice actually shut down, and it was nearly a minute before I could croak, “Who, me? You’re kidding, right?”

She told me the same few people always speak for the association and she thought a fresh face appearing in the media would send a message that more than three or four people were concerned about school funding.

That made sense, but, with our turn to speak barely 15 minutes away, I continued to protest. She insisted that I was the man for the job, and she trusted me to do it well.

So I caved, and at the appointed time, I climbed the steps and delivered an impromptu speech. I think there was applause when I finished, but was too busy breathing a sigh of relief to notice.

But my ordeal wasn’t over. A news reporter with cameraman in tow met me at the bottom of the stairs, and I found myself answering questions. I answered them as best I could and then sneaked off to hide.

That’s how I came to have a picture of myself making a speech on the steps of the Wyoming Capitol. I know I appeared on the news that evening because my brother saw the report, but have no memory of what I said on the Capitol steps or how I answered the questions.

I can’t say if any of the legislators heard what I said or whether it made any difference to them, and frankly, I would be surprised if it did.

Well, that’s my adventure in memory for this week. All in all, it isn’t a bad one, and it reminded me what I had learned that day: If you find yourself at a rally or demonstration, have a speech prepared.

Better yet leave the area quickly, before the president spots you.